I Steal The System

Chapter 7: Superpower Prisons

Every nation hoards its skeletons, and the nameless tropical regime where Lucius was held was no exception. Deep within the suffocating humidity of the jungle, a monolithic fortress of concrete and steel rose like a jagged tooth. Wrapped in coils of razor wire and prowled by guards with fingers twitching near triggers, the facility didn't just scream "prison"—it screamed "black site."

"Has our latest anomaly arrived?" General Nefion asked. The stars on his epaulets caught the harsh fluorescent light of the command center, mirroring the coldness in his eyes.

"Touchdown confirmed, General," replied a woman nearby. She was a whirlwind of controlled chaos, snapping orders into a headset while slamming a stack of dossiers onto a desk. "Subject was processed three minutes ago."

Nefion leaned over the main console, the hum of high-end servers vibrating through his boots. "If I hadn’t spent thirty years in the mud of the infantry, I’d call this a fairy tale," he mused, his voice a low gravel. "Superhumans. Real-life comic books walking among us."

His gaze was fixed on a massive wall of monitors. On the central screen, a heavy steel door groaned open. Four guards, armored as if they were going to war, dragged in a young man. He was draped in heavy, industrial-grade chains that clanked rhythmically against the floor. A thick, reinforced black hood obscured his face, making him look less like a boy and more like a high-value ghost.

"Unmask him," Nefion commanded through the intercom.

An officer jerked the hood back. Lucius Eugan blinked as the white light hit his eyes, but he didn't flinch. He sat there with a terrifyingly hollow stare, looking through the guards as if they were made of glass. To him, the rifles pointed at his chest were mere toys.

"Lucius Eugan," Nefion’s voice boomed into the interrogation room. The General took a slow, deliberate sip of black coffee. "Let’s skip the theatrics. How did you acquire the System? Who gave it to you?"

Lucius remained a statue.

"My reports say you played the fool in the first session. Now you’re playing the mute?" Nefion’s tone turned predatory. "Look around you, boy. This isn't a luxury resort. It’s a hole in the earth where people disappear."

Nefion leaned closer to the monitor, magnifying the feed to catch even the slightest twitch in Lucius's expression. "We know about the 'System', Lucius. Don't insult our intelligence."

"If you already know everything," Lucius said, his voice raspy but dripping with sarcasm, "then why are you wasting your breath?"

Nefion let out a short, bark-like laugh. "A comedian. Excellent. I love a good show." He snapped his fingers—a sound like a pistol shot.

Without a word, a guard behind Lucius swung a heavy crowbar. It connected with the back of Lucius’s head with a sickening thud. The force sent the boy forward, his forehead hitting the metal table. Blood immediately began to ooze from his nose and the corner of his mouth, staining the gray table a brilliant crimson.

"I don't want jokes, Lucius. I want data," Nefion hissed. "Otherwise, your next meal will be as feed for the predators in the surrounding jungle. Now—the System. Where did it come from?"

Lucius spit a glob of blood onto the floor. "I don't know," he lied, his voice steady despite the trauma. "It just... manifested. In my room. One night." It was a practiced deception, a wall of smoke designed to protect a secret that could tear the world apart.

"A pity. You could have saved yourself a lot of pain," Nefion sighed, though he didn't look sorry at all. "Fine. What can it do? Give me its specs. Capabilities."

"Nothing special. Physical enhancements. Strength, speed. That’s it."

The General narrowed his eyes. He noticed Lucius glance toward the corner camera—a flicker of feigned submission. He’s breaking, Nefion thought. Good.

"I see. One more thing," the General said, his tone shifting to a deceptive, fatherly warmth. "You’m a smart kid. You know you have no future outside these walls. Would you be willing to serve as a 'tool' for the state? We have a special program for... talents like yours."

He meant "hunting dogs." Expendable assets sent into the meat grinder.

"I'm willing," Lucius answered instantly.

Nefion smirked, taking another sip of coffee. "No hesitation? Careful, Lucius. Compliance is a short path to an early grave. Now, tell me: are there others? Any other anomalies we should be worried about?"

"I don't know about others," Lucius replied, leaning in as if sharing a secret. "But there was something... on the school roof. An anomaly."

"Explain."

"The bodies," Lucius began, his eyes wide and seemingly earnest. "They didn't just lie there. They were sucked into the air. Like a whirlpool, but sky-blue. It just... devoured them."

Nefion froze. "A portal?" he whispered to himself. The rumors of spatial rifts were already causing panics in high-level briefings.

"Keep talking," Nefion ordered. "One lie and I let the guards finish their work with that crowbar."

Lucius felt the rush of a tactical victory. He had the General on a hook. "There was a red crack," Lucius added, lowering his voice. "A jagged, glowing red fissure right in the center of the blue swirl."

The General’s face went pale. The "Red Fissures" were a Top-Secret phenomenon known only to a handful of people in the global defense hierarchy. How could he know that? Nefion wondered, his mind racing through the implications. He must be telling the truth.

Across the glass, Lucius sat slumped in his chains, the image of a defeated boy. But behind that impassive mask, he was grinning. Every word was a calculated move on a chessboard the General couldn't even see.

"You're lucky, Eugan. You're far too valuable to break today," Nefion said, waving a hand at the screen. "Officers, move him to the High-Security Detention Wing. Level Four."

The guards didn't bother with kindness. They unbolted his chair and dragged him out, his boots scuffing against the floor like a piece of discarded luggage. Lucius didn't fight them. He let them drag him deeper into the heart of the fortress—exactly where he wanted to be.